


The Daily Scandal

by blondeonblonde



Series: The Celebrity Years [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Newspapers, One Shot, celebrity gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeonblonde/pseuds/blondeonblonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John's close friendship has caused rumours in the press, John is angry about it but Sherlock is just annoyed that they picked up on it before John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Daily Scandal

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of short fics about the impact on the boys of being a celebrity. The idea came when I was writing my retirementlock fic 'The Decision' and John mentioned 'The Celebrity Years' that they had. I started to think about Sherlock on a chat show, or answering stupid questions in newspaper supplements and thought i'd try out a couple of ideas. They will all be unconnected and different genres etc.  
> Hope you enjoy.

 

**_ A fine Bromance?   -By Lucy Bagshaw                                   The Daily Mercury:  6th May 2015   _ **

_After his recent high profile capture of notorious criminal genius James Moriarty, London’s most eligible bachelor Sherlock Holmes (36) was spotted on Saturday night reunited with his loyal ‘companion’ John Watson (39), out together at a prestigious event in the West End.  Last week John moved into Sherlock’s Baker Street flat after the breakdown of his marriage to Mary Watson (nee Morstan)._

_Just good friends? There have long been rumours surrounding the nature of the relationship between Holmes and Watson and onlookers have once again raised speculation as they show all the signs of a budding romance…’_

John put down the paper with a grimace, a sigh and a groan. An unusual combination of expressions but not when you spend your life putting up with the ridiculousness of Sherlock Holmes.

“Have you seen this Sherlock?” He got up from his sagging, battered armchair and waved the offending paper under Sherlock’s nose. “Have you seen what they’ve bloody written now? As if all of that stuff with Moriarty wasn’t bad enough. It was for a CASE for fucks sake! Who’d go to a preview of a musical about suicide bombers for fun? Jesus! ”

He sunk back down into the armchair once more with another loud groan.

“Are you quite finished?” Sherlock replied languidly from his position on the sofa. He lay flat on his back with his eyes closed, hands steepled below his chin, still enough that he could be carved out of stone.  “What is it exactly that you object to?”

“Isn’t it, as you so annoyingly put it, obvious?” John held up the page in question. The paper was a widely read tab-sheet, once a national institution renowned for authenticity and candour, now mostly existing on celebrity gossip and hysterical announcements about immigration and the NHS.

“Humour me.”

“They’re insinuating we’re a couple, Sherlock. Look” He jabbed a finger angrily into the papers brightly coloured pages.  “A catalogue of signs apparently…”

“Hmm…?”

Sherlock seemed to be losing interest in the conversation so John decided he would have to be proactive if he was to get any response from the man. A little sympathy would be nice. He’d only officially separated from Mary a few weeks ago, but after many lonely months the thought of all the women in London reading about this alleged relationship was making him feel he may never get laid again. Really Sherlock had a lot to answer for.  Perhaps if the man was in a relationship himself things might quieten down, the rumours might stop for a bit, but after the business with Janine John assumed that would never happen.

John started reading aloud from the article.

“Just listen, ha! It’s all so ridiculous! ‘Sign one: Partners in Crime. The pair have been spotted back together fighting crime after a lengthy hiatus.’ “

“That is true.” Sherlock replied from the sofa, his expression still unwavering.

“Ok, I’ll give them that, we have recently resurrected your career. I suppose it was rather a long time between the wedding and finding Moriarty, even if it’s all seemed a bit of a blur to me…”

“It was 10 months and 16 days.”

“Oh. Right, well, I guess that is a somewhat newsworthy event.” He flashed Sherlock a smile.  “Let’s look at the next one… this one really gets me, ‘Sign two: Clearing the Field.  John recently announced his impending divorce and estrangement from his wife and young daughter.’”

“Again, true.”

“Yes, I do know that, thank you! But she was a bloody assassin and the child wasn’t _mine._ What do they suggest I do?”  John jumped out of his armchair and began pacing the room in an agitated fashion.

“To be fair, the journalists of that paper know neither of those facts. It appears to the world that you decided to leave _them._ The man is always seen to be in the wrong.” Sherlock interjected again with a soft smirk, much to John’s annoyance. Trust him to take _their_ side, he so often tried to wind John up for fun.

 “It’s so unfair! I was put through all of that and it looks like I’m the villain!”

“Life is unfair, John.” The reply came quickly and with no amused intonation to soften the blow this time.

“Fine! Thanks very much for the support!” He rubbed one hand across his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tension that always formed whenever they mentioned Mary.  “Well, moving on…” He tried to focus again on the newspaper and find the bullet point he had reached.  “Next on the list… ‘Sign three: Cohabitation. The couple are moving in together, John joining Sherlock in his flat in Baker Street.”

“True.”

“Moving _back_ in! It’s not like we’re shacking up together, I’m your flatmate! They make it sound like a love nest rather than somewhere I need to be because I had to leave my lying wife’s flat.”

“Whatever.” Sherlock turned away from John, shifting for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, his back now facing the room and his head curled down into his chest.

“Don’t sulk Sherlock, I didn’t mean I didn’t want to be here! Come on, this one will make you laugh…  ‘Sign four: The look of love. Even without his fabled powers of observation it is completely obvious from every glance that Sherlock is deeply in love with John.” 

A silence fell across the room until a small, deep voice floated across the room from the sofa.

“True.”  

“What!” John was sure he had misheard, Sherlock was facing away from him after all, and his voice was getting muffled by the sofa cushions. Slowly Sherlock turned around to sit up and after taking a deep breath, started to reply.

“It _is_ obvious, John. If even the Daily _Moron_ can see it, I‘d have thought you might have noticed by now. You are _moderately_ intelligent after all.”

“I’m sorry, still not getting it.”

“It’s perfectly simple, happens to people all of the time. Love, lust, attraction. When I look at you my pupils dilate, I feel a twist in my chest, my heart races and….”  Sherlock looked at his feet, apparently embarrassed about the subject for the first time. “… I think about you all the time“.

John searched his face for signs of insincerity. Was this real? Or was this an experiment? An act for some reason? Continuing to wind John up about his reaction to the article? No, he thought, there were no traces of a smirk and he looked genuinely embarrassed.

“Urgggh. How could I not notice?...” John pummelled the ball of his hand into his forehead and let out a long groan, sinking back into his armchair. “I’m so sorry!”

At this proclamation Sherlock looked up both curious and worried.

“I’m not asking for anything, John. I merely stated a fact. I do hate inaccuracies and you were drawing false conclusions. What do you have to be sorry about?”

He studied John’s face to try and discern his meaning, but what he found was confusing, why did he look so sad? 

  
“No. I’m sorry I didn’t notice.” John dropped his hands to his sides and clenched his fists, trying hard to find the right words. “God! It must have been difficult, seeing me with Mary, and all those things we put you through.”

Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted. This was a little too close to the truth and he didn’t want to seem weak and not in control. He was perfectly happy for John to know his feelings, but not how much they had affected him.

“If I’d wanted to tell you I could have.”

“Ok, then why didn’t you?”

John’s tone was as much accusatory as questioning and Sherlock was unsure what he was supposed to reply.

“I knew it wouldn’t change anything and you might be uncomfortable with me.” He folded himself back into his foetal position on the sofa, although this time he was facing into the room, unwilling to let John out of his sights.  
  
“Uncomfortable? Knowing I meant so much to someone so important to me? Uncomfortable to be the only person you seem to want? God! It feels bloody fantastic, Sherlock! I’ve honestly not seriously considered it before but knowing you _feel_ something like that under all of that heartless shell, and that it’s aimed at me… it’s fucking amazing!”

Sherlock closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He was trying desperately to keep a grip on his sentiment and not get carried away by some idle words said in the heat of the moment.

“John…”

“You actually, you know, have emotions and stuff! Hang on… what about human error? Love is a dangerous disadvantage?” John’s confusion filled the room. He looked suddenly angry, perhaps this had been an act all along?

Another Sherlock sulk ensued. His bottom lip stuck out and he looked mutinously at the floor, he did so hate to admit to getting something wrong.

“I made a vital miscalculation.”

“Which is?”  
  
“They weren’t you, John.”

“Are you serious?”

John thought that might be the sweetest thing Sherlock had ever said. He looked both amused and dumbfounded, still coming to terms with the idea of Sherlock and the existence of romantic emotions. He definitely wanted to push him to see how deep this went.

“Deadly.”  


John swallowed, and took a minute to compose himself and his next question.

“What would you do then if I said I loved you too?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows quirked for a fraction of a second and then his expression returned to neutral once more. He spoke in a quiet and resigned manner, as if explaining his deductions to someone stupid (something he’d certainly spent a long time doing.)

“Quite possibly fracture into a million pieces out of shock, because really John, that is not what you want to do.”

“No? And what do I really want to do?”

Sherlock leaned back on the sofa cushions, closed his eyes briefly then replied.

“Past behaviour indicates that you will soon leave the flat, take a long walk and resolve that we never speak of this again.”  


John let out a quiet huff of a laugh, crossed his arms, starred straight into Sherlock’s face in a blatant challenge.

“Wrong. Try again.”

Sherlock looked up hesitantly, now less sure of his deductions. He carefully moved onto his second-most-probable scenario, which despite John’s early enthusiasm still seemed possible; it was the one he least wanted to be right about.

“Um.  You may hit me, tell me I violated your trust and you never want to see me again.”  


John still had his arms crossed, but didn’t laugh this time. He simply raised his eyebrows and gave Sherlock a stern look.

“Wrong. Next theory?”

Sherlock was still unsure, he was relieved that John didn’t seem to want to go for that option, but what did that realistically leave him with? He looked away from John’s accusing gaze as he voiced his next theory.

  
“You’ll try and persuade me that I don’t really love you, that I can’t possibly feel the depth of emotion required and that it would be better for me to forget you.”  


“Jesus, wrong! All wrong, Sherlock. I can’t believe you think any of those things is the truth.” John was on his feet again, hands gesticulating wildly, clearly emotional, although Sherlock didn’t understand why.  “This…this is the truth.”

John crossed the room in two strides and brought his hands down to meet Sherlock’s face in a matter of seconds, certainly before Sherlock knew it was going to happen. One minute he had been trying to decipher the meaning of John’s overly-emotional body language and the next he had strong warm hands cupping his jaw, gently tugging him into a standing position. As he rose John brought him in closer and pressed their lips together.  Sherlock gasped in surprise then came to his senses and began to kiss back fervently. It had been a long time since he had felt someone so close, intimately joined at the lips, but it felt as natural as breathing. John slid his left hand from Sherlock’s jaw back around his neck into the soft black curls at his nape, and drew the right down his torso, feeling the ridges of hard muscles under his tight shirt until he could slide it around his waist. Sherlock had made similar moves and soon had one hand up the plain of John’s back and one resting on the front of his collar bone. They moved together, tasting and testing and teasing for a long while until John felt his point had been made. He gently pulled away and was delighted to see how kiss-ruffled Sherlock looked, his hair wrecked and his lips red.

He tried to explain in case the kiss hadn’t been able to.

“Yeah… So, I may only just have realised it and I don’t know how it will work or what exactly I want and you’ll have to give me a little while to shift my mind but I know I’ve never needed anyone like I need you. And right now you look so gorgeous, I can’t think of any other possibility than making you mine.”

Sherlock stared deeply into his eyes and gave him the just-for-John smile he had been cultivating behind closed doors for months.

“John Watson, you really are an extraordinary man.” He brushed his hand up and down John’s back as they were still entwined in the middle of the living room.

“I know! So…Let’s give the Daily _Moron_ something to really report on shall we! “ He pulled Sherlock closer, moved his hands downwards to pull their hips together and whispered huskily in his ear, “I want to read: Holmes and Watson shock Baker Street with outrageous screams of pleasure during an all-day sex-marathon.”

Sherlock shuddered then rolled his eyes.

“Really? Half an hour ago you hated being in the newspapers.”

“Half an hour ago I didn’t know the story was true.” John replied with a grin, reaching up to embrace Sherlock again in another blindingly passionate kiss before dragging him upstairs to begin to create tomorrow’s headlines.  


 


End file.
